


Of Silver Foxes and Android Kisses

by vanceypants



Series: Age is but a Number [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - vaguely futuristic, M/M, Marriage, Old Age, Robots, middle age actually, trans rich goranski (implied), weird medical shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:41:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanceypants/pseuds/vanceypants
Summary: Jeremy's 45th birthday is cause for internal crisis, which is made all the worse when his synthetic husband is stuck in perpetual youth.  Rich might have the answer to fix all of that.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Jeremy Heere's Squip
Series: Age is but a Number [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679080
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	Of Silver Foxes and Android Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hal9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hal9/gifts).



> Discussions with Hal about older Jeremy inspired me (though her ideas were much more beautiful). A lot. Don't think this was what was had in mind, but I get carried away sometimes.

Jeremy’s 45th birthday crept upon him, a thief of his last vestiges of youth. Once upon a time, he’d been brown frizzy hair, round pink cheeks, passion for everything that went into the act of living, and living good, and living young. Once upon a time, he’d been fascinated by the very aspect of life, and everywhere he’d looked he’d seen possibilities.

Now he stared in the mirror, here on the morning of his 45th birthday, and he swore he had even more grey in his hair than he’d had yesterday. He lathered up his face with shaving cream, sighing a tired little sigh, as he began to shave away the salt and pepper stubble on his cheeks. The bags under his eyes were discolored, purple, almost bruised in quality, and his cheeks were pale and lifeless, and when he smiled, his face creased unpleasantly.

What did anyone have to smile about when they were forty fucking five?

“You look awful.” The door swung open, his as-always appropriately timed husband slipping into the shared bathroom. Squip dropped the towel draped around his waist, his nude body supple and perky, perfect ass and perfect abs and perfect legs. His hair, sleek, dark, carried not a single strand of silver.

Jeremy should have been turned on, especially upon seeing that Squip was half-hard after his sleep cycle (he wasn’t sure if it was normal for robots to have morning wood, or if it was a special feature Squip had installed just for him).

Instead, he was hopelessly jealous.

And irritated. Just because he knew he looked old and flabby and awful didn’t mean Squip had to point it out.

“Clearly you aren’t sleeping enough.” Squip stepped into the bathtub. “Join me.”

It was a command rather than a question. Jeremy ignored him, continuing to shave.

Now it was Squip’s turn to scowl. One hand poised on his hip, the other beckoning. “Jeremy-”

“I’m busy.”

“Nonsense. We need to clean you up.”

“Obviously I already showered,” He gestured to his still wet hair. “See?” And then he regretted it, thinking of how he was pointing out the grey of his hair.

“Irrelevant. I’m not asking you to soap up. Though if you’d like, I’d be happy to rub you down. I’ll allow you to finish shaving, but once you finish, you’ll enter this tub and we will commence with your first of many orgasms.”

“Yeah, we should probably get in as many hookups as we can before I’m impotent.”

Squip rolled his eyes. “Self-pity is ugly and unappealing on you. Fine. Use your hand for all I care.” He tugged the curtain shut. Jeremy stared at his silhouette through the curtain, then glanced down at his razor.

“Besides, I like a little stubble on you. But who cares what I want?” The water began to roar, and Jeremy watched his outline move closer to the stream. 

“Well, it’s my birthday,” Jeremy pointed out. “Shouldn’t it be about what I want?”

“And you want me.” The curtain slipped open a crack, Squip peeking his head out. He smiled, a coy, playful smile. “Join me. Please?”

Jeremy fiddled with his wedding band for a moment, then smiled despite himself. For a moment, he felt young again, as he stripped out of the boxers he’d pulled on after his first shower of the day. “Okay, okay, just don’t hog all the hot water this time.”

********

Rich Goranski’s perpetual youth was as unsettling as it was enviable. Jeremy really shouldn’t have stared. And he’d spent most of the decades he’d known him since the experimental procedure not staring, in fairness.

But boy, today it was hard not to stare.

Just as he could feel Squip staring at him from across the room. Jeremy glanced over at him, offering him a small smile, holding up the little plate that Squip had fetched him with birthday cake, an indication that he was pleased with his actions, that he enjoyed the dessert, before his eyes drifted back to Rich.

“-and basically this bitch starts barfing just fuckin everywhere. It was totally nuts!” Even his speech patterns remained youthful, though with the years that had gone by, his slang was beginning to grow antiquated. “Seriously, bro, you wouldn’t believe the colors that-”

“What’s it like?” He hadn’t meant to say it outloud. But the words slipped out all the same, as he admired the smoothness of Rich’s synthetic skin. It was a different model than the skin that Squip had, a little more artificial flaws and scars etched in, but otherwise, it was the same basic idea. Artificially heating, artificial sweat glands.

Artificial youth.

“Puking?” Rich asked uncertainly.

“Looking so young.”

“Oh.” Rich shrugged. “I dunno. Dope, I guess. I mean, it does the job. Are you going to eat that?”

It certainly had done the job. Given the fire that he’d been through, there had been little to no chance of him surviving. While consciousness transfers were all the rage in Hollywood now, at the time it had been an experimental procedure at best. Shifting all of Rich’s essence into a robot exterior.

He supposed that made Rich more cyborg than android. Or at least, Squip insisted that it made him more cyborg than android (with that slightly haughty ‘I’m better than him’ way that Squip so often adopted whenever Jeremy so much as mentioned another droid). But the mechanics of it, the science of it, the philosophical implications of what it meant to be human or what it was about a living thing that made someone just that weren’t the thoughts that interested Jeremy right now.

“Yes, I think so. Squip’ll get pissy if I don’t.” He takes a small bite of frosting, offering another smile across the room at Squip (who really should have been focusing on conversation instead, yet there he was staring). “Really, Rich. Don’t you feel lucky? Tell me. What’s it like, being so young?”

“I don’t know, man. What’s it like having a dick?” Rich asked dryly.

“I…wait, did they not—Squip has a dick, were they not able-”

“Don’t worry about it. Feels kinda intrusive, huh?”

“That’s…that’s not even a good comparison, what the hell?” 

Rich’s frown softened, “Look, it’s, like…I don’t know. Being a ‘droid is sorta weird. Now I have to worry about the curfews and the annual classes on Asimov’s Robotic Laws and shit and, like, people just being dicks.”

“…yeah, I guess you’re right.” Certainly Jeremy had seen how that discrimination had affected Squip throughout the years. 

Right now it seemed a fair trade off though. Did that make him a terrible person? Yeah, that probably made him a terrible person.

“I mean, if you really wanna do it, though, they’re a lot more lax than they were with me. Like, they insisted that I had to keep all my ‘flaws’ and ‘bodily anomalies’ and what the fuck ever. To preserve my Essence Of Self.” He scoffed. “But now I’m pretty sure you can pay for whatever you want. I know Brooke did a backwards upgrade a couple years ago.”

“Backwards-”

“Aged down. I mean, she didn’t go quite as young as me.” Rich, caught in permanent teenhood given his age when that fire had scorched him. “But she’s gotten her modeling contract back and everything.”

“They’ll…they’ll do that? I wouldn’t have to be trapped like…like this?” He gestured at himself.

“Whoa. Calm down, birthday boy. You’re a total fox. And your hubby can’t keep his eyes off you.”

Jeremy laughed. “If _hubby_ hears you call him that, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I’m just saying, you’re aging like a fine-ass wine. A fine ass, too. You’re definitely overthinking this.”

“Yeah, well, easy for you to say.”

“If you’re really serious about this, I’ll like, give you a card to one of the doctors that gives me exams. He can hook you up. It’s kinda pricey, though.”

“I can handle that.”

“But you gotta get me a beer first.” Rich’s frown returned, hands crossing in annoyance over his chest. “The bartender won’t accept my ID. He thinks it’s a fake.”

Oh, to have such troubles in his own life.

**********

“Why would you want to do that?”

In retrospect, saying that to Squip while his mouth was around his dick probably wasn’t the smartest of strategies. Squip, kneeling on the carpet of their bedroom, had lifted his head from Jeremy’s cock, hands clasped against his thighs, lips glistening as he licked them.

“I don’t know. I mean Rich-”

“Is hardly the model of responsible behavior.”

“I mean, it’d be kind of, um, nice, don’t you think? We could match.”

“If I wanted to fuck myself, I’d go find another SQUIP manufactured in the same factory as me.”

“Well, not full on match. I’d still look like me.” Though now that he thought about it, possibilities were really opening up. He could look however he wanted. No more flaws, no more insecurities-

“I think you’re sexy how you are.”

“Yeah, maybe for now. But I’m just going to keep aging.”

“I fail to see the problem.” Squip pulled himself up from between Jeremy’s legs, instead straddling Jeremy, his arms looped around his neck. “You’re beautiful, Jeremy.”

Jeremy’s face flushed. “Thank you,” He couldn’t help but mutter, as Squip caressed his face. He cupped his cheek and Jeremy found himself nuzzling into the affection.

“Besides, I like the silver in your hair. It makes you look distinguished.”

Moment ruined. “I look like a fucking wizard. A generic wizard.”

“Hardly. You don’t look wise.”

“Thanks,” This time his gratitude was sarcastic. 

“You’re welcome.”

“Squip, being old sucks. No one wants to be nasty and wrinkled and-”

Oh.

Oh, he knew how he could convince him.

“-and eventually, I’ll stop aging altogether.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean I’ll die. That’s what happens when you get old. You shrivel up and you die. You don’t want that, do you?”

He regretted it immediately.

Squip’s body tensed against him. He felt the temperature drop from his skin, an automatic response to his distress. Icy and more similar to how one would expect a robot to feel. His body trembled, once, before stabilizing again.

And then Squip stiffly pulled himself out of Jeremy’s lap. Eyes downcast. “That won’t be for many years.”

“Well, eventually I’ll be too old for anyone to be willing to-”

“I’ll pay for it.” Squip turned away from him, examining the framed pictures on the wall. Their wedding day. Jeremy had been so hopeful then. And they’d appeared the same age then, not a gawky teenager with a sophisticated bot, but two grown men, in love, cherishing each other.

And not like this, an old man and a youthful bot.

Jeremy couldn’t keep this gap growing. He couldn’t. But that didn’t mean Squip had to pay.

“I…no, you don’t—I wasn’t asking for-”

“I’ve been saving for us to move out of this apartment. I know you’ve wanted your own studio space. A house is the logical next step in…” Squip trailed off. He turned towards Jeremy again. “I don’t want you to die,” He admitted softly. “And I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“I’m not-” He was though. Jeremy wasn’t quite miserable. But he certainly felt melancholic, with every ache reminding him of the pressures of gravity on an older body, with every glance into a reflective surface where he’d wonder who that old man was, before realizing it was him. “You’d really be okay with it?”

“I’d rather you not face some of the things I face,” Squip said darkly. It was rare (in fact, Jeremy would venture to say it was the first time) for Squip to speak about any of the oppression he faced due to his artificial existence. “But I could learn to be okay with it.”

“I just…”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. Just don’t let them change you too much.”

“I won’t. Are you going to come with me to my first appointment?”

“No.”

Jeremy’s shoulders slumped.

And Squip laughed, moving over to him and collecting his face in both hands. He guided him upward, standing while Jeremy sat on the edge of the bed, and their lips met. He kissed him until Jeremy was breathless, and then a few moments longer for good measure. “Of course I’m going to come with you. I’m not about to let you fall for some snake oil.”

“I could handle myself!”

“Sure you could.”

Jeremy couldn’t argue again even if he wanted to. Squip was already kissing him once more.


End file.
